


Innocence

by babybrotherdean



Series: SPN Kink Bingo [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2016, Teenchesters, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/babybrotherdean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is slowly running out of things to lose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innocence

**Author's Note:**

> Filled my "cuddling" square by accident, whoops.

Sammy’s the one who fires his gun on time, and for a long moment in its aftermath, everything is too quiet. 

Sammy’s shaking, and Dean’s breathing hard, sprawled out on rotten floorboards where his foot had gone right through, landed him on his ass at a critical moment. Their dad’s just watching from the other side of the room, eyes glued to the body on the floor where the werewolf’s gone down after Sam’s shot.

“Shit.” Dean’s the first one to speak, barely a whisper, and he can’t stop staring at his little brother. His little brother who’s too young to even be on this hunt to begin with, who only had his gun as a precaution- who’s just fired a bullet and _killed a monster_ and none of them seem to know what to do about it.

John recovers a little faster and he straightens up, lowers his gun and exhales slow. “Good shot, son,” as if it’s nothing but target practice, and there’s none of the pride on Sam’s face that should be there. None of the brightness that comes with a perfect shot in training because everything is suddenly, horribly real.

They don’t speak much after that, and John dismisses the both of them to the car while he cleans up the mess. Dean almost protests, insists that he can help- stops short when he looks back towards his little brother, looking lost and small and scared. He doesn’t say a word as he moves towards Sam and leads him outside.

Sam seems absent, allowing Dean to nudge him along all the way into the back seat but not offering him much in the way of conversation or acknowledgement. Dean’s worry grows with every step and by the time he crawls in after his brother and shuts the door behind him, it feels like it’s trying to claw its way right out of his chest.  
“You okay?” he asks, low and soft, and he’s just about to say fuck it and pull Sam into his arms when Sam does it all on his own with a little more vigour, as Dean finds himself with a lapful of baby brother and a desperate, messy kiss pressed to his lips.

Dean doesn’t know what to do besides kiss him back, so he does- even though he shouldn’t, should be doing anything at all besides encouraging this. Sam’s too raw right now, obvious in the heaving of his chest and the way his fingers are trying to find purchase in Dean’s hair, in the taste of his lips and the tears Dean can feel against his own cheeks. Sam’s in no state to make decisions right now but there’s nothing Dean can do to say no.  
“Please,” is whimpered against his lips, and Dean doesn’t have much of a choice at all.

He holds Sam like he’s at risk of having him taken away, grips his hips tight enough to paint bruises into his skin, and the kiss turns almost violent, too many teeth and the taste of salt of copper when their tongues meet. It’s not what they’re used to and Dean doesn’t know how to handle this, really, but Sam needs him right now and Dean’s going to do everything in his power to help.

He doesn’t know how long they go on like that. Dean needs to pull away eventually because he can’t breathe between Sam’s half-formed sobs and his own crushing sense of helplessness, and then they’re both gasping, panting, clinging to each other with foreheads bumping together and forever too much space between them.

Sam settles down against him within a few moments, and they’re both quiet. Dean starts petting his brother’s hair mindlessly, one arm loose around his middle while he tries to get comfortable. Sam’s still a small enough kid, but Dean needs to do a whole lot of shuffling around before he’s settled, sprawled out across the full length of the seat and leaning back against the door.

“Don’t tell Dad?” Sam asks as if it’s something that needs to be said, and Dean just nods and holds him a little tighter. 

Sam’s tears have dried and he’s almost asleep by the time John returns, stinking of smoke and charred flesh. He doesn’t say a word, pausing only long enough to nod at Dean in the rearview mirror before he’s starting the car. The engine’s purr is the last straw, and Dean’s eyes slip shut, too, sinking a little lower in his seat and hugging Sam like it’s the only thing he has left.

He decides that they both need this, anyways. Dean falls asleep wondering how much Sam has left to lose, and decides that it isn’t nearly enough. It just becomes that much more important that he protects it in the first place.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
